


Despite the Snow, Despite the Falling Snow

by GlamAssKiddo



Category: American Gods (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Roadtrip, Sharing a Bed, post 1.05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-07 11:34:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11058096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlamAssKiddo/pseuds/GlamAssKiddo
Summary: Sweeney couldn't get his coin back. Shadow couldn't understand what was the problem with that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a follow up to episode 5, especially the scene between Laura and Sweeney, but it's partly based on the book's version of it, between Shadow and Sweeney. No book spoilers.

“We gotta ditch this car,” stated Mr. Wednesday from the driver’s seat as Shadow tried to pick Mad Sweeney’s handcuff lock. The leprechaun had his face turned away from Shadow, looking straight at the road with a displeased look in his face. “The police have the license plate already,” continued Wednesday.

“You really think the police is our main concern here, _Odin_?” Shadow eyed his boss through the mirror. He’d already tried to talk about that particular revelation while the three of them ran through the woods back to the Starbrite Motel, and again as they gathered their small bags and threw them into the car, and yet again as he searched Wednesday’s bag for a lockpick, but he knew it was useless: He’d only get told what he needed to be told, and whatever other people shared was none of Wednesday’s business. “Because a racist teenager, an I-Love-Lucy-Marilyn-Monroe-Hybrid witch and a psycho businessman, plus whatever that creepy tree thing was, are not worrying at all? The cops are all fucking dead!”

“So you’ve met ‘em,” Sweeney said as his handcuffs snapped open. He immediately turned towards the window, away from Shadow, staring straight outside at the moonlit rain.

“You heard what they said, Shadow. They don’t want to fight us, at least not yet. The little punk might be bitter, but World and Media will hold him back until they’re certain we’re taking definitive action. That doesn’t mean they erased the damn police records.” Wednesday turned on the radio, skipping through classical and pop stations, finally settling for some quiet jazz. “We’ll find a car dealership to trade this piece of shit, and figure out where to go from there.”

“Great, drop me off there. I’m done with you and your stupid fucken war.”

Wednesday scoffed at Sweeney. “Are you serious? From the way your luck’s going, I’d say you haven’t managed to get your coin back, have you? Well? Have you?” Sweeney was silent. “Thought so. Come with us.”

“No damn way, you cunt.”

“Be reasonable, you stinking goat. We both know you won’t last much longer on your own without that coin. You’ll be much safer with us.” He turned to face Sweeney in the backseat. “I still need you for Wisconsin.”

Sweeney kept quiet for a couple minutes before sighing and shooting Shadow a dirty look. “Fine. But don’t you think I’ll be sharing a room with _him._ ”

* * *

 

After trading the car, they traveled for two days straight, scheduling their sleeping hours so that at least one would be awake to drive at all times. It was a quiet journey, silence broken only by Sweeney’s snoring and white noise from the radio, and, even taking old gravel backroads, they got halfway across the country by the end of the second day.

On the third day, it began to snow.

They finally stopped at a motel dirtier and older than any other in their journey thus far, and, despite their frantic protests, Wednesday did book Shadow and Sweeney a single room. Shadow immediately ran for the shower before Sweeney could get to it and let the warm water wash away the sweat and grime from days of traveling. When he came out, he found Sweeney sitting at the edge of the bed, looking down and crumpling his cap in his hands.

“Guess your bride’s not so blushing anymore, huh?”

Shadow stepped back, confused. “Laura? You’ve met her?”

“Yeah I fucking met her. She’s what got me arrested— and nearly broke my damn finger.”

Shadow chuckled, despite how pissed of Sweeney sounded. “Laura couldn’t have possibly have broken your fing—”

“It’s my fucking coin, you stupid cunt!” He got up and started pacing around the room, still avoiding eye contact with Shadow. “It’s what brought her rotting ass back, and it made her strong enough to give me a proper thrashing.” His breath was getting quicker, and Shadow could see the tension building up in his shoulders. This wasn’t just Sweeney looking for a fight, but actual rage and frustration burning under his skin. “She doesn’t fucking deserve it and I can’t take it back because–” He trailed off, mumbling in a ancient language Shadow didn’t know, visibly shaking in fury.

“Because _what_ , Sweeney?”

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, that’s why!” He finally turned to face Shadow, spitting in Shadow’s face as he shouted and with a crazed look in his eyes. “Because I was drunk and too distracted by your stupid eyes, and gave you the wrong fucking coin, and _you_! You foolish piece of shit, you—” Sweeney grabbed Shadow’s shirt, and Shadow braced himself for the blow that seemed ready to burst out of the leprechaun’s anger.

Instead, he burst into tears.

“ _You gave it away._ Of your own free will,” he sobbed into Shadow’s shirt. “You’ve murdered me, Shadow.”

He let Shadow go, wiping his tears on his coat sleeve and walked towards the door, unlocking it and letting the freezing wind come in.

“Sweeney, I–” Shadow called, staring with pity at the grime, dried blood, and tears covering Mad Sweeney's face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” He felt weak and stupid saying it, and uncomfortably vulnerable under Sweeney’s dirty look.

“Fuck you, Shadow Moon.” Sweeney answered, as he walked out onto the falling snow.


	2. Chapter 2

The moon shone bright outside, but Shadow almost missed Mad Sweeney shivering under an old stone bridge. Despite his height, he looked very small sitting in the channel carved out by a long-dry creek, seeking shelter from the snow that piled up around him.

“Hey, Mad Sweeney. Was looking for you.” Sweeney didn’t answer him, only took a drag from a cigarette he’d been rolling and blew the smoke in Shadow’s face. “Mind if I sit?” the leprechaun continued to be silent, so Shadow decided to take it as an affirmative. The two of them barely fit together under the small bridge, and Shadow could feel the ancient, moss-covered stones pressing against his head. “You keep hanging out under bridges, people gonna think you’re a troll.”

“ ‘M not a troll. Shit. Those bastards’re fucken _mean_.” He took another drag from his cigarette. “Used to be one here, I think.” He pointed at the dark woods surrounding them. “Few miles south, there was some village, don’t know how many centuries ago. They built this bridge, and survived enough to see the stream dry up, so they made up some troll that lived under here. Now they’re all gone, and so she’s gone too.

“That’s the problem with Wednesday’s stupid war. Don’ matter if he beats those new feckers to a pulp. Nobody believes in _us_ anymore, and we live on belief. We’ll all be dead soon enough. I’ll probably go quicker, now I’ve lost my coin. Damned and Doomed.” The cigarette smoke was now so thick that Shadow could barely see Sweeney’s face through it, but he could still feel those piercing eyes turned straight at him. “If I were you, man, I’d take the dead wife and run from the storm before lightning strikes.”

It began to snow again while Shadow mulled over the best way to ease Sweeney back into their earlier conversation, if he could even call that a conversation.

“You never did teach me that coin trick.”

“Yes I did. Stupid fecker. Showed you where the horde is, how to take coins from the it. The whole thing.”

“ I was drunk. I don’t remember.”

“The problem is not that you don’t remember, but that you don’t _believe_ . Because of course there’s _no way_ you can pull coins outta thin air, just the same as there’s _no way_ I’m a leprechaun or your cunt of a boss is Odin, just the same as there’s _no way_ your wife is back from the dead. Despite everything you’ve seen, touched and even done, you still can’t believe any of it’s real. The coins’re sitting right under your nose but you refuse to see them. When you believe, you’ll remember.”

Shadow stood up and out of the bridge, wanting to get away from the conversation he had tried to start moments earlier. It was all still too fucking much. “Come on, let’s get back to the motel. It’s getting too cold out here.”

“I like the cold,” Sweeney lied, putting out his cigarette. Shadow insisted.

“Come with me. I got us a bottle of whiskey and I sure as hell can’t finish it alone.” He stretched out a hand, at the same time an offer to help Sweeney get up and an offer of peace between the two.

After a moment of hesitation, Sweeney accepted it.

* * *

 

They continued traveling, and sharing tiny motel rooms and cheap whiskey bottles. Wednesday was acting more mysterious and erratic than ever, driving them all around the country with no discernible reason for choosing a particular route or another, staying a couple days in a forgotten old town and suddenly taking off in a completely different direction, and barely talking to his companions. Shadow and Sweeney weren’t bothered much by it, content with each other’s company. They’d drink and fight in the cold, and late at night, when both were lying in their beds, still high on adrenaline and booze, Sweeney would tell Shadow tales in the dark, stories of the fey in Minnesota or the golem of New York, about ancient gods forgotten by mortals and those kept alive in the thoughts of fading grandmothers. Shadow dreamt of them, of beings older than time itself setting foot on a new land only to disappear into nothingness. And when he saw strange creatures out of the corner of his eye, or when Wednesday met a half-crazed woman called Titania in a cabin covered with flowers, he could no longer tell whether he was dreaming or awake, nor did he care.

He supposed it wasn’t all that bad, all things considered.

* * *

 

Just when Sweeney thought Wednesday couldn’t get any cheaper, he managed to book them a single bed. One too small to fit either one of them alone, much less together. Fucking asshole.

Sweeney was not about to sleep on the floor for Shadow, and the other man didn’t offer to make that sacrifice either, so playing human Tetris it was. They wound up on their sides, lying with their bodies as straight as possible, feet sticking out from under the flimsy blanket, their backs touching. It wasn’t so much the proximity that made Sweeney’s heart run faster, gods knew him and Shadow hadn’t had any concept of personal space ever since that first night at Crocodile Jack’s, but how his initial, strictly sexual, attraction for the man was starting to develop into… something else. After weeks of traveling and spending the entire day with Shadow Moon, he’d come to actually enjoy his company, where before he’d been mostly annoyed by him. This wasn’t good. Last time he’d been involved with a mortal man, it hadn’t ended well, for either of them. He’d only managed to move on when he could no longer remember the boy’s name, and could no longer remind himself by reading his grave, it had become too worn. He had to be careful with Shadow. Still, he had no option but to share a bed with him at that moment, and he hoped he wouldn’t move or snore _too_ much and wake Shadow.

In the next morning, he found himself spooning the man. By Bran, he was doomed.

He could hear the birds chirping outside, and see the dust particles suspended like gold in the few rays of sunshine that came in through the snow-covered window. The heater in the room didn’t work, but it was warm and surprisingly comfortable there with Shadow, so Sweeney did not move a muscle, only waited to see what the other man’s reaction would be. Eventually, he did hear the change in Shadow’s breath that meant he was awake, but still neither of them did anything. They lay still, enjoying each other’s presence for what felt like hours, until Shadow broke the silence.

“This feels nice.”

Sweeney held him closer, whispering soft into his ear, “This?”

Shadow chuckled. “This as in traveling and being with you for the past weeks, but also, you know… _this._ ”

“Yes it does, Shadow.”

* * *

 

They wound up deciding that sharing a bed wasn’t so bad, after all. Even when they did get separate beds. They didn’t talk about it, and didn’t make any attempts to turn it into something else. It was a nice arrangement, keeping each other warm on stormy nights and simply feeling comfort in each other’s touch in more amene weather. Nothing more. And if Mad Sweeney still sometimes longed for more, desperately wanted to lean into Shadow’s lips when they stood too close together at bars, to hold his hand as they walked around the woods searching for the old homes of dead gods and magical creatures Sweeney once knew, to know that even if he soon faded away too, he’d at least get one last love affair at the end, well.

He still was too stubborn to make the first move.

* * *

 

“So the coin is a sort of fail-safe?”

“In part. It’s main function is still mostly just _luck_ . It’s exactly like it says on the tin: lucky coin, only supersized. It will— _would_ give me some more time when I’m forgotten, but not much.” Sweeney tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, impatient. It had been more than an hour since Wednesday had gone alone into a half-rotten lakeside shack, and the snow that was just starting to fall would certainly make driving back to their motel a living hell. He was not in the best mood for  Shadow’s questions.

“And why did it make Laura… you know.”

“No fucking idea. I didn’t make the coin and sure as hell don’t control it’s powers. Don’t really think it’s happened before, though. Your girl’s fucking weird, Shadow.”

“She’s not my girl.” Sweeney tried really hard to drown the little ray of hope shining on his heart. Tried. “At least not anymore,” continued Shadow. Sweeney didn’t answer, trying to leave this conversation behind. After a few minutes of heavy silence, he plucked a coin from under Shadow’s nose and started doing simple, non-magical tricks with it. Shadow stopped him in the middle of a reveal. “Gimme that for a moment.”

Shadow was undoubtedly better at mundane tricks than Sweeney, taking some time to make flamboyant moves with the style of a true showman, before going in for the trick itself. He made the coin disappear as usual, then showed his empty hands to Sweeney. The leprechaun eyed the whole performance with little interest, knowing it was hidden on the back of Shadow’s hand or under his sleeve, and waiting for the anticlimactic reveal. It never came.

Sweeney looked up at Shadow’s face, only then noticing how close he had leaned into Sweeney while making the trick, those warm dark eyes staring right at him. “Hey, Sweeney?” he said, leaning in even closer, and Sweeney followed his example, getting their faces so close together they could feel one another’s breaths on their lips.  Shadow reached for the back of Sweeney’s ear.

“ _I_   _believe you,_ ” he said before they kissed, and Sweeney didn’t need to feel the familiar cold at his ear to know that Shadow had just taken a gold coin from thin air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll probably write a sequel to this, but only after season one finishes airing. In the meantime, feel free to send me unrelated prompts over at glamrocktrash.tumblr.com!


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